I immediately thought of these familiar verses when i read the word turn. Gabriel the angel is telling an aged Zechariah about his son soon to be born from the barren womb. What this incredible son will be, what his purpose is, "And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous - to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." Luke 1:17

Hundreds of years before the same prophecy is foretold, this prophecy of people being ready to receive the Messiah. That phrase, "to turn the hearts of the parents to their children" has stuck out to me. Jumped out to me. Why? Whats the connection between hearts that are prepared to receive the Savior and parent hearts turned towards the hearts of their own children?

I am no scholar or can pretend to know all the reasons why; however, I know that here in this time of a million distractions in all different forms we need this. We need fresh hearts for our children. Hearts that are leveled intently, gazing gently and purposefully into the eyes of our children.

Millions have grown up without even the physical presence of fathers. It perpetuates problems and pain.

I wonder the reason, but I think I know. At least somewhat. I gaze into the deep eyes of my children and soul gaze. Past the eyes that crinkle in smiles, spill tears, and dance laughter there is a soul. A forever soul. An eternal soul.

Its a way of zeroing in on what is most crucial, most important, most worth our lives. There is nothing more valuable, more important in the work I do whatever it may be on this earth than the God love I show my children and family.

I feel my heart turn towards my kids when I kneel quietly next to their bed while they drift dreaming and lay a palm to forehead whispering prayers.

I feel my heart turn towards my kids when I put things I'm working on away instead of trying to carry conversations on that fall flat because I'm not really focused and they know it.

I feel my heart turn towards my kids when I make a purposeful meaningful connection with them, pause to look eye deep and pat their chest where their heart is fast beating. To whisper how special and cherished they are. I feel my heart turn towards them and theirs turn towards mine.

I feel my heart turn towards my kids when I decide to enter into their world and play that game that I didn't want to.
I feel my heart turn towards my kids when I bloom patience in places I never did before. I swallow harsh words and smile instead. My heart turns towards them again.

As I turn my heart in all these small ways back to theirs intentionally I know something. I know that this is the one way I show them that God's heart of love is turned towards them. Much more than mine. Never distracted. Never too busy. Never tired. Always beating ready love.

I turn towards them and turn towards eternity. I turn my heart to them that one day they might turn their hearts to God's and live in His love forever.

Tonight I had to turn towards my kids after pushing them away. I also had to turn towards the Father and I'm grateful He turns to me. Thank you for sharing your insights, your heart for your kids. Grateful you were the post before me in Five Minute Friday. ~ Leah

Hello FMF friend! You WIN...I LOVE this passage! I sat here thinking, "Ok, I know I've read that before but never noticed the term TURN in there." That just blows my mind in so many ways. It got me thinking how as parents we often have dreams for our kids. Can you imagine the dreams Mary had for Jesus? Yet, the day she saw Him on the cross, did her dream for Him die as the Father's will became alive in death? You have my writer's and mommy heart both going tonight! Thank you for your insight friend! This is great!http://www.bethanyboring.com

This is such a beautiful way to look at the word "turn" as it relates to parents turning their hearts toward their kids' hearts. I think the reason it resonates so deeply is that all we who are parents are, in a way, a reflection of God the Father who is always turned toward us, His children. He is always there, always loving us, always ready to forgive when we turn away from him, always feeding us from His word, always tending the wounds of our spirit (and our bodies), always bathing us in His mercies. Don't we do all these things for our children too? :) Wonderful post! Have a blessed Friday!

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Four summers ago the first weekend in September marked one month. One month lived out shaky and unsteady. Just putting a few steps in front of the other and letting tears drip down faces or anger spill out at the sky. "Why?"
I had watched my husband shake violently at the graveside of his twenty-six year old brother as he sat a few inches from the casket.
My usually stoic husband reached out for the casket as he passed by and I heard his voice crack as he called out his name. One more time. I had never seen him stricken with grief. That groan of emotion haunted me. Those fifteen minutes spent under the funeral home's green awning the last minutes his family would ever be within arms length of this special brother. A brother who had just slipped quietly out of this life beneath the green gold water of a river one steaming August day. Bare chested and tan, jumping off the dock with friends. Never to resurface again.
A lot of that week in August was just wakin…

Last is such a final word, it’s a word that always makes us sit back and take note. We take note of the fact that something is about to draw to an end and we better enjoy the last drops, savor the last bites before its all gone. Like that last hot week of summer that we spend soaking up every last beam of Vitamin D. Or that last couple bites of a once a year Christmas dinner, slowly swallowed down. Or maybe the last night of a vacation where we try to take note of everything and know that we are returning to real world, real bills, real deadlines all seemingly too soon.
Two weeks ago I experienced a last. For seven months I was given a gift. It was truly an unexpected gift. One I had never anticipated being given. For the past six years my sister Faith and I have lived in different cities for most of the time. We always mused over the idea that we should've lived together for at least one year of college. But from icy January 4th to steamy August 10th I had the gift…

Morning seems sacred to me. Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
My parents are early morning people that like to eat full breakfasts and watch the sunrise on the porch. There's something exciting about watching the day open its' eye lids with the first glints of sun playing on the horizon edge. Pale blues and periwinkles rouse us out of pitch black and many times morning rises in strength with extravagant colors. It signals something new. A new twenty four hours. A new chance. Kind of like a new little slice of life. We are mesmerized at first at the idea of new. It's beautiful, holy, and hopeful.
Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken. I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
Especially the last phrase, "God&…